


This is your brain on Dragon-Nip

by LeDiz



Series: The 48: Dreamworks [1]
Category: Dragons: Riders of Berk (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Unfinished, astrid is not a good role model, don't do drugs, dragon nip is an experiment, hiccup should explain more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 16:58:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7395961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeDiz/pseuds/LeDiz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dragon Riders learned everything they know about dragons through experimentation. Usually Hiccup was the one doing the experimenting, though, and also the teaching. So it was weird when he didn't tell them why humans shouldn't eat dragon-nip.</p>
<p>So Astrid experimented instead.</p>
<p>Then everyone else dealt with the result.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is your brain on Dragon-Nip

When she had to explain herself later, Astrid insisted it was all Hiccup’s idea.

Which, in a very technical sense, it was. They’d been watching Toothless and Stormfly rub around in the dragonnip—Toothless’ better sense of smell and lower sense of airs rendering him far more blissful than Stormfly—and chatting when Hiccup said, “Man, dragonnip is incredible. How happy do they look right now? Completely out of it.”

“Mm,” she said vaguely. It did inspire a vague sense of longing. “Too bad dragonnip doesn’t affect humans.”

“Ohh, yes it does,” he said, and she looked at him curiously. He grimaced and shook his head. “You don’t want to know. Just know that if you think adding a bit of dragonnip to the fire will help calm your dragon on stormy nights, you will get a lot more than you bargained for. Trust me.”

At the time, she hadn’t thought much of it, because Hiccup often came out with weird statements like that – especially when it came to dragons. She didn’t know how he learned so much of the stuff he discovered, but he always hinted at strange adventures and experiences and never went into details about anything but what they needed to do in order to not screw up.

Which was probably why the other riders had come to the consensus that Hiccup’s ideas were never fun. Astrid agreed with them, but secretly suspected he had plenty of fun ideas – he just never shared them with anyone but Toothless.

And it was that thought that led to Astrid sitting with Stormfly at the lookout, a bundle of dragonnip in her hand as she stared into the flames of the pit. It wasn’t like Hiccup had said she _shouldn’t_ try it. He hadn’t even said it was a bad idea.

She lifted her hand and sniffed at the grass.

Nothing. A little sickly sweet, a little earthy. She wasn’t falling over herself drooling, the way Toothless practically had been that afternoon.

She hesitated, glancing back at Stormly. The dragon was preening, but keeping half an eye on her hand, in the hope of getting the grass rubbed on her face. But Stormfly was the only sentient thing around to see.

Astrid picked out one blade of dragonnip and popped it in her mouth to chew.

Well.

It tasted like it smelled.

It was kind of acidic, actually. Not quite burning, but enough that she could feel it coat her teeth and fizz on her tongue. And slightly chewier than normal grass. She put in another blade, just to be sure she’d gotten the proper affect, and went back to staring at the fire.

Maybe it was like the herbs Gothi used for her visions. She’d shown the kids-who-would-be-riders once; they were just simple ordinary grains, like the spices Johann brought from the east, but when they burned, they did amazing, magical things to the mind.

Now she thought about it, she was pretty sure Hiccup had tried those, too. When they were younger, one idea that had been thrown around was that he was so small because he was destined to be a seer-prince, like from legend. So Gothi had tried to lead him on a vision.

Astrid still didn’t know what he’d seen, but it had been ridiculous enough that Stoick had given up on Hiccup ever being a seer. Now, though, given the ridiculous things they did all the time, Astrid wondered if he hadn’t actually seen the truth and it was just that no one believed him. Maybe it had even been a vision of them befriending dragons.

Because they’d definitely done that. Stormfly was like Astrid’s best friend, only big and scaly, and she didn’t talk. Which was a shame. Astrid didn’t talk to Stormfly as much as Hiccup talked to Toothless – he talked like Toothless could actually talk back. But she still wished Stormfly could talk to her.

She absently popped another blade of dragonnip in her mouth as she wondered what Stormfly would say if she could talk. Probably something about chicken. Or whether her scales were shiny enough. As dragons went, Nadders were of pretty average intelligence – nowhere near the level of a Nightfury, but well above the Zipplebacks. But Astrid still doubted she’d have much to say.

Now if Toothless could talk… that would be interesting. The conversations he and Hiccup would have! Oh, she’d like to see that. Hiccup would really like to see that, actually. He always said Toothless was the best friend he’d ever had, and she didn’t doubt him.

Come to think of it, he was also probably the _first_ friend Hiccup had ever had.

They’d all treated Hiccup really horribly, for a really long time.

…really, really horribly.

And now, he was the Dragon Trainer, and they all wanted things from him. Most of the village would probably still be treating him horribly if he wasn’t so good with dragons.

Would she?

…yeah, probably.

“I have to make it up to him!” she cried, jumping to her feet. “I have to apologise! And make it up to him. Come on, Stormfly. We need to make everything up to Hiccup!”

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t unusual for Hiccup to be up late. He generally preferred the night-time; it was only his inability to see, as well as general social niceties, that kept him from ignoring convention and just becoming nocturnal.

So when something thumped outside, he was up and awake enough to climb up onto his bed and peer down out of the window.

Astrid was attempting to climb his house.

“Uh… hi?” he prompted, and she looked up, panicked.

“Hiccup!”

“Yes…?”

“You’re awake!”

He raised an eyebrow. “Yes…?”

“You shouldn’t be awake!” she cried. He wondered if she knew how loud she was being. “I was going to come and wake you up so I could ask you something! But you’re already awake! So I can’t wake you up to ask you something!”

He stared at her for a long few seconds, not really sure how to respond to that. It was the kind of statement Ruffnut might make, but also the sort of one that usually made Astrid groan and slap her.

“You could… ask me now?” he suggested warily, and she scoffed, then stopped and clicked her fingers.

“Hiccup.”

“Yes?”

“Do you like cake?”

He leaned a little further out the window, not sure if he’d heard correctly. “Cake?”

“Yes. Rock cakes.”

She looked very serious. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to take the question.

Astrid and cooking were a dangerous combination at the best of times – he had learned, through many attempts to be supportive, that the best way to manage her forays near the hearth were with silent support and a handy bucket.

“I have to find you something that says ‘sorry I was an idiot for fifteen years’,” she explained. “But I don’t want to seem soft when I do it. So I need to know if you like rock cakes, because they aren’t soft, but they are filled with heartfelt emotion. But it won’t mean anything if you don’t like them. So I need to know if you like rock cakes.”

He slowly nodded, not really following her train of thought. “And if I say ‘no’?”

“Then I have to find a way to make Toothless talk. I think I have it figured out, too. He makes these ‘grr’ noises, and also these ‘coo’ noises. So if I can just figure out which one means ‘yes’, I’ll be on the right track.”

Hiccup hesitated, the held out his hand. “Stay there, I’ll be down in a second.” He pulled back through the window, exchanged bewildered looks with Toothless, and then they both headed down the stairs. His father’s door opened, and he peered out with tired eyes.

“Hiccup… what in Thor’s name is going on out there? It sounds like you’ve got a drunk girl mooning at your window.”

“I’m beginning to suspect I might,” he admitted, and grinned when Stoick did a double-take. “Astrid’s going on about baking me cakes and teaching Toothless to talk. _Something_ is not right.”

 “And here I thought you kids would never discover ale,” he muttered, then pointed a finger at him. “Do not make me have reason to make arrangements with the Hoffersons.”

“Oh, believe me, Dad, if that was a possibility, you would be the least of my problems,” he said, pulling open the door. “If I did, Astrid would sober up and probably kill me before you got the chance.”

“As long as we’re agreed,” he said, and ducked back into his room. Hiccup rolled his eyes and led Toothless out to where Astrid was swaying slightly in the moonlight. He approached cautiously, but when Astrid turned to him, she didn’t get angry – she looked like she was about to burst into tears.

“Hey… Astrid… you feeling okay, there?” he asked warily.

“I don’t think I can afford flour right now,” she said, as if she was confessing to a horrible turn of events. “I gave all my gold to Trader Johann last month. Hiccup… I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay,” he said quickly. “Not a huge fan of rock cakes anyway.”

“Are you sure? You’re not just saying that? It seems like the sort of thing you’d say to make me feel better.”

“Uh huh,” he said, glancing at Toothless again. “So um, Astrid –”

“Because I can get flour, I’m sure!” she insisted. “I’ll – I can trade my axe! You’re more important than my axe, Hiccup.”

“Oh-kay, so you’re not feeling so good, huh?” he asked, deciding it was worth the risk and slipping in closer. He peered at the one eye he could see through the dark, and decided the pupil looked a little bigger than he’d expect, though it was hard to tell, with one thing and another. “Had a drink or two?”

“No. Hiccup, you know that, right? That you mean more than an axe.”

“Yes, Astrid,” he said, and started trying to herd her toward the great hall. “I understand that. You’re sure you haven’t had anything to drink tonight?”

“No. I did eat some dragonnip, but it doesn’t seem to have done anything, so I’m not concerned about that,” she said, and Hiccup tripped over his own feet. Astrid stopped walking when he hit the ground, but didn’t have time to do more than look at him before he scrambled back up and grabbed her shoulders.

“You did what?”

“Ate it. You kind of implied that I shouldn’t inhale it, so I didn’t, but I thought eating it might have some kind of effect. Only it didn’t either.”

He leaned closer again, staring at her face. Aside from her wide pupils, and a slightly vacant look to her face, she seemed okay, but… “How much?”

“Hiccup, I didn’t come here to talk about me,” she said, and lifted her hands to hold his shoulders, only she seemed to lose interest halfway and just laid her hands on his chest instead. “I came to talk about you. And how Toothless is the best friend you’ve ever had. And I’m sorry.”

“G’yuhh…” He was having a little trouble focussing with her hands where they were. Her fingers were fidgeting over his heart and doing strange things to his gut. He let go of her shoulders so they weren’t so close, and coughed. “Uh, um… that – that’s okay. I like Toothless, you see. You’re not feeling sick at all?”

“Focus, Hiccup. Toothless is a dragon, and you should be best friends with people. You should be best friends with… with Fishlegs.”

He raised his eyebrows, caught off-guard by the suggestion. As stupid as he thought it was, given his track record with people, he did understand her logic, but… “Why Fishlegs?”

“Well, I would say me,” she said, and stepped closer again, until her bent arms were the only thing separating their chests. “But you’re really pretty. And best friends don’t think their friends are pretty.”

Aaaand there went all his braincells. He giggled helplessly, his last remaining logic points going to a moral internal argument.

“There are lots of things best friends shouldn’t do,” she explained to him, and then leaned around to look at Toothless. “They shouldn’t speak different languages. You are not helping by refusing to learn Norse.”

Toothless warbled back at her, evidently amused, but Hiccup was slightly more preoccupied by Astrid’s arm having slipped over his shoulder for balance, and where that put her chest.

“Also, best friends don’t ride each other,” she continued, before tilting her head up to look at Hiccup. “Girlfriends and boyfriends do that.”

Hiccup’s morals cheerfully waved as they packed up and left, apparently surrendering to the inevitable, but luckily his self-doubt and -preservation banded together to continue beating his hormones back down to their usual repressed state. It left him feeling a little vulnerable overall.

“So neither of us can be your best friend, Hiccup,” Astrid continued, as she straightened up. Hiccup blinked at her, not following at all, and she nodded as if he’d made a good point. “Yes, Snotlout does have our strength and fighting skills, but he’s also an idiot. And so are the twins. So that leaves the adults, and, well, they’d be no good, and Fishlegs. You should be best friends with Fishlegs.”

“Fishlegs,” he repeated, and his barely-functioning brain somehow merged the idea of riding, hormones and Fishlegs to create an image that very kindly startled him out of his haze. He shuddered and realised the first step to regaining any sense of control was disentangling himself. He did so, but Astrid refused to let go of his hand after he removed her from his shoulder, so he went with small victories and started leading her again. “Okay, I’ll talk to him about it in the morning. So, about this dragonnip, Astrid… how much did you eat?”

“Just a few blades. You know, I really do want to be your best friend,” she said, and tightened her grip on his hand. “And it’s not just because of the dragon thing. It’s because you’re nice. And smart. You’re really smart, Hiccup.”

“Uh, th-”

“I mean, if you’d asked me a few months ago, I would have said that was annoying, but it really isn’t,” she continued, and Hiccup looked to Toothless helplessly. The dragon just grinned back, and Astrid soon caught his attention by tugging on his hand again. “It’s actually pretty amazing, you being so smart. Especially since it’s not just Gobber-crazy-smart, it’s Chief-smart. I can’t wait for you to be chief, Hiccup, you’re going to be a wonderful chief. Not that I want your father to die! You don’t think I want to kill your father, do you? Because I don’t!”

He smiled weakly. He was having enough trouble swinging between flattered and distressed without Astrid swinging between happy and panicked. “No, no, Astrid, it’s fine. I get what you meant.”

She stared at him anxiously for a few seconds, then nodded and turned forward again. “It’s like how nice you are. I thought that was your worst trait for so long. It made you weak, right? How nice you are to everyone? I thought it would get you killed, and I’ll be honest, I was kind of looking forward to it, because then everyone would stop worrying so much about how blind Stoick is, not realising his son was useless. Do you know how many times the village had meetings about whether we should send you out to sea?”

Hiccup did his absolute best not to twitch. She was not in her right mind. She was probably being honest, but she was not in her right mind.

“But really, Hiccup, your niceness? It’s your best trait. It’s like, like… like how I think Odin is. Deep down, I mean, not when he’s being all god of war, like, but more like with the animals and the knowledge. Actually, now I think about it, you really are like Odin, just without the poetry! You don’t do poetry, do you?”

Thor, give him strength. “No. No poetry.”

“That’s a shame. I’d like you to write me a poem,” she said wistfully. “I’d beat you up for it, but I’d like it anyway.”

“Uh huh.” He latched his eyes onto the Great Hall, only another twenty or so steps above them. All he had to do was get her up there, and then give her some food and water, and she’d stop talking. That’s what he and his dad had done – discovered food and promptly forgotten how to talk beyond comments about how the food tasted. Just twenty more steps.

“It would have to be a good poem, though. Not like Fishlegs’ poems. Have you heard any of those? They’re horrible. If you write me a poem, it needs to be really sweet and pretty. Like you. You are really pretty, Hiccup.”

He tried to ignore that, not least because now he was thinking about it, ‘pretty’ put him in mind of dresses, pink lips, and Astrid’s hair. He was pretty sure guys weren’t meant to be pretty. But unfortunately, before they could move on, the door to the Great Hall opened, and Fishlegs crept out, looking to Hiccup’s eyes like gold-edged salvation. “Fishlegs! You’re up!”

“Huh? Hiccup? Astrid?” He blinked at them both, his eyes widening as he saw their hands. “Uh, no! No, I’m not up at all! I’m not even here, and I’m definitely not seeing you two on a date!”

“We’re on a date?” asked Astrid, and Hiccup blinked hard, trying to move past that.

“No, Fishlegs, I need your help. Astrid is…” He trailed off, realising Astrid was now staring at him intently. Given her train of thought, that could either mean she was listening to him or comparing his eyes to the first green thing that came to mind. Thor, but he hoped she went with grass instead of yak-pies. “Astrid is feeling very talkative, this evening, and I don’t want to keep it all to myself.”

Fishlegs stared at him blankly. “What?”

“So you don’t mind going and getting us some water, right?” he said meaningfully. “And while you’re there, would you mind seeing if there’s any meat left in the stores? That would be great, thanks so much.”

One of Fishlegs’ more annoying habits, in Hiccup’s opinion, was that as smart as he was, he just could not catch a hint. Luckily, he generally knew a threat when he saw it, and Hiccup was doing his best to silently promise a punishment he couldn’t quite think of if Fishlegs didn’t get back in that hall and do as told. He turned on his heel and headed back inside with only a quick, confused glance, leaving Hiccup to continue drawing Astrid up the stairs.

“Why don’t we go on dates, Hiccup?” she asked. “Why aren’t we courting?”

“Oh, gods,” he breathed, and glanced at her to gauge how close he was to being beaten up. “Uh… can we… can I answer that question tomorrow?”

“Because here’s what I’m thinking,” she said, completely ignoring how horrified he looked. “I know why _you_ aren’t courting _me_. It’s because you’re a wimp. Also the whole chief’s son thing… Hiccup… you’re the son of the chief!”

He stared at her as he pushed the doors open. “Um… yes. Come inside?”

“No, no, you don’t understand. This just occurred to me,” she said, but brushed past him anyway, pressing a hand to her forehead. Toothless followed her in, so it took a while before Hiccup could close the door again and look for Fishlegs, but he still managed to catch the other boy gaping at Astrid. If he was being honest, he couldn’t blame him. A relaxed Astrid was weird – a mood-swinging, emotional, let’s-talk-about-feelings Astrid was downright creepy. She turned on her heel and walked back to hold Hiccup’s arms. “What if – what if your father ever does one of those – those um – the things where you get married to someone you don’t like, because then the tribes have to like each other?” Her eyes widened. “What if you had to get married to Dagur?”

And that was just a little too far beyond horrifying and right into strange. Hiccup could only continue staring at her until Toothless’ flicking tail caught his eye and he switched to watching his dragon wandering toward the stores. After a second, he remembered Fishlegs and the food he was supposed to be getting, and lurched after him, grabbing Astrid’s arm on the way past.

“So, um… what’s going on?” Fishlegs asked, handing him a slab of spiced meat.

“Astrid –” Hiccup stopped, then glanced back at her.

She frowned, then explained, “Hiccup thinks the fact I ate dragonnip is a problem. But as you can see, I’m fine. Is that steak?”

“Yup,” Hiccup held it out, and she looked at it for a few seconds, licking her lips.

“I’m… I’m not hungry.”

“You aren’t?”

“No…” She looked at him again, then back down at the steak. “Hiccup, go away.”

“What?”

“Go away,” she said. “But leave the steak.”

He and Fishlegs exchanged glances, before he held up his hands in surrender and then handed her the steak. He beckoned Toothless to follow him as he started across the room. “C’mon, buddy.”

Astrid kept watching him until he had retreated to the other side of the Hall, and even then, he had to turn away and pretend to focus on scratching Toothless before she started eating. He rolled his eyes and actually did focus on his dragon, muttering under his breath about insane girls and mind-altering substances.

He didn’t remember too much of his own experience with dragonnip, though he did remember having a long and detailed discussion with his father about the merits of cheese as an artificial foot, and woke up in the morning, head pounding horribly, with his actual prosthetic on the other side of the house and a half-eaten block of cheese with charcoal on it in his hand. Evidently, bad ideas came with the territory.

After a few minutes, Fishlegs came stumbling over and sank down on the bench beside him, looking vaguely traumatised. “She’s crying. Astrid never cries!”

Hiccup frowned and looked back at her. She looked like she was digging through the stores for more meat, to him. But given how madly she seemed to be swinging, he decided not to doubt him. “Something about flour?”

“How’d you know?”

“Call it a lucky guess. What are you doing up, anyway?” he asked, then smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Trying another recipe?”

“What? I don’t – I – how do you know about that?”

He shrugged, looking down at Toothless again. For all that they noticed him when he screwed up, people had always liked to ignore him when he was quiet. Before the dragons, he’d spent a lot of time watching people and learning their secrets. Not that he got the chance anymore, and they certainly didn’t need to know about it.

“I was trying breadcrumbs and flour on steak,” he confessed finally. “It didn’t work, but I _know_ I’m on to something. I just have to find a way to make the flour cook without burning.”

“Hm,” He grunted vaguely, glancing back at Astrid again. “Why didn’t she want me over there?”

“Uhh… something about eating not being attractive, and how best friends are allowed to be unattractive,” he said, looking around again too. “And then she started telling me I needed to be your best friend, because Toothless wasn’t learning Norse. Which is weird.”

“Yeah, but I think –”

“I mean, I thought we were friends,” he said, and after a beat, his fragile tone made Hiccup look at him nervously, half-expecting dilated pupils. But no, Fishlegs was just being his usual emotional self.

Hiccup sighed and patted his arm. “We are, Fishlegs. She’s just being… high on dragonnip. Did she say anything else?”

“Uh, no, just something about how she was trying really hard, but you weren’t helping, being pretty, and forgiving her for not having flour,” he said, and scratched the back of his head. “Do you think girls actually care if we’re pretty?”

“Oh, for the love of – no, Fishlegs. Just ignore it.”

“Only, because, I’m not sure what counts as pretty, and if –”

“Fishlegs,” he snapped, and luckily, the other boy stopped there, though he continued nervously fiddling with his fingers. After glaring at him for a few seconds, Hiccup leaned back to check on Astrid, only to find her sitting on a storage crate, dreamily chewing on a carrot as she stared at the dark ceiling.

On the one hand, he was glad he hadn't told them what had happened when he made his mistake with dragonnip, because a high pair of twins was not something he ever wanted to deal with. On the other hand, a high Astrid was also something he had never wanted to deal with.

But here they were. So he just sighed and prepared himself for a very long night.

**Author's Note:**

> The 48 is a collection of unfinished fics I have sitting on my hard drive. I decided to post them in case anyone is interested, wants to adopt them, or just wanted to read them despite them probably not being that great. This one was last edited 22 August 2014...
> 
> This is in direct response to that one line in Riders where it's revealed Astrid once got high on dragonnip. The idea amused me. Of course this is nothing like a real response to drugs, but Riders was very much about getting stuff past the radar, so I've kept to the theme. I hope it amused for at least a moment!


End file.
